The World's Helper
by Ebony A. Burton
Summary: Everyone knows what murderers are. No one is blind to thier insanity,to their lust for blood and death. But no one has ever quite hear of a murderer who... Fixes people? Leap into the town of Bi-Shing where the city's greatest threat isn't doing the wrong thing,but doing the right thing,the wrong way.
1. Chapter 1

Silence. That's the only thing that was hear able in the room. That,and the near silent noise of a pencil moving across a paper._  
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_It's so weird. No,scratch that. Life in general is weird. No,scratch that. Everything is weird! Yeah,that sounds so much better. I feel like I'm one of those sifi-horror story writers writing my next big novel. Wait a sec,it could! It could be call "Brother Grimm's Journal!" Yeah,I like that name. But then,people would see all my thoughts and secrets,and I would get in trouble for all the stuff I do,and I don't think I'm ready to get in trouble for something like that just yet. Besides,It's not my fault that the world doesn't' understand the favor I'm doing. They don't understand the trouble I go through to make the world a better place,no one does... And with that,I have no one to talk to,and with no one to talk to,there is no-_

A muffling and having breathing broke the writers train of thought. He sat there at his desk for a moment. Just listening. Waiting. Almost shaking,but not from fear,but almost,an excitement. It was like waking up on Christmas morning and just waiting on your mother to tell you that it was time to open the presents. Luckily,this present was the same way it always was: wrapped in a body bag and just waking up. Sweating and unaware of what was going on. Confused,and it fueled his excitement even more. The muffling turned into small pants and then it turned into screaming.

"Help! Someone help me! Where am I?!"

That and a whole bunch of other nonsense was being spewed out by his "present". And to be frank,it was making him tired. He never did like hearing them complain or beg for help. It always mad him even madder and made him want nothing more but to slice their throats wide open. Or to bash the skull in with the mallet,or set them on fire,or any of the hundreds of ways he could kill a person. But their complaining to all the fun out it. When he would kill them like that,it was usualy because he couldn't help them, or they irritated him too much.

**'I wonder when people will just learn to appreciate things they don't understand... Maybe they will some day. Some of my patients truly understand the good I've done for them. While others... Have not.'**

Putting the pencil down,the smiling man calmly removed himself from his desk and walked over to the bag on the floor. There was chain and rope attached to the bag,to make sure they didn't escape. He couldn't have them running away from him before he "fixed" them. And fixing them didn't always require that he kill them,but he usually did. Only because there was no other way to do so. They were far too broken for far too long. And he could only fix so much about them before it was too late. After that point,he would usually just toy with their body as much as he liked before he got tired of them. After that,he would use them for what ever they were worth,and then throw them away. It was a long process,but a fun one that he never wanted to end. When he first started,he was always afraid,and didn't know exactly how to tell his patients or victims what he was doing and why. Eventually though,he found that it wasn't always best to let them see his face and such and such. But as he got better and better at it,he began to enjoy it more. Now,at the ripe age of 27,he can't imagine doing thing else!

The struggling got rougher,and the screaming increased. By this point,he could tell that she was awake,fully.

Time for the introduction.

Using toe,he lightly tapped the head. He got the exact results he was hoping for: Anger. She thrashed more violently and started cursing.

"Who the fuck is out there?! I fucking swear,when I get out of this damn bag,your head will be on the ground before you can say God-" A harsh slash through the air stopped her babbling at once. She shivered at the sound of a whip lying at rest.

His smile widened. The sheer silliness of it all made things so comical,he couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

"So,what got you so quiet?" No answer. While I was looking for silence,I do want her to answer my question. "Well? You had a lot to say just a second ago..."

Using the whip,he lightly trailed the edge of it over the bag. It looked as thought the bag had ants inside it,with all the shaking. He smiled eagerly,he knew from all her small reactions to things like this,she would be a feisty one. They always did make this hard for him,like squirming around and stuff. But what they did have over most people,was that they usually had more things that needed fixing. And that was his job right? To help fix the **_world..._**

**Author's Note:**

Hey,yeah,I know. Don't judge. I ave actually been meaning to write a story away from all the lovey dovey stuff that I usually write. And trust me when I say,I do have a very violent imagination. I can't tell you all the evil,and I do mean evil thoughts I can have in an hour. It's not done yet obviously,and I have to edit it,make it a little longer and all that jazz,but I'm getting there. So for now,peace out and enjoy the school year!


	2. Chapter 2

"Hm."

Typing and the low hum of a desktop computer was all that could be heard in the dark room. There was a fan in the room,but it was on such a low setting that it barely made a noise,and that's just the way he liked it: Silent.

The walls were painted a dark purple and a dark green,no particular pattern in mind,just kind of splattered here and there. but not a spot of the wall was left the original white it was when he first moved in 6 months ago. Also covering the walls were various objects such as: Posters of classical music being played,pieces of work that he created himself,nick nacks that had been bought a long time before he moved here,and weapons.

While the young man sitting in his black and red chair never truly felt the need to have weapons, he knew more than anyone else that it was never a bad thing to be prepared. He learned that from his previous living arrangements.

-Sigh-

Other parts of the room were decorated as a normal room would be: Bed at back wall with white sheets and pillows,bedside table with lamp and other little objects on the tip, and a small refrigerator next to the bed to avoid leaving the room,a phone that hung upon the wall to avoid using the one that was within the kitchen and other such things. In his closet,he had everything from clothes to a washer and dryer. They weren't all that big or powerful,seeing how he didn't have all too many clothes,he didn't need that much. Also,in a chest, he had almost anything he needed for any kind of situation: He had weapons,passports, multiple language books, maps, money, numbers to people who could help him out of almost any situation, non perishable foods,bottled water, non-flammable clothes, flint,stone, matches,lighters, wood, paper clips (for any random reason), cat supplies (for Oscuras) and all his personal information.

Yes,as always, Ulquiorra M. Schiffer was prepared for anything.

However,there was one thing that he couldn't help,that the bathroom was across the hall...

Yes,that was the only thing he couldn't fit in his room. He would've just put a porta-potty in his room,but because of the vile smell that would come from him using the bathroom,he was forced not to. Allergies and his cat's opinion told him to just be a man and use the normal restroom.

"Hm."

-Purring-

Suddenly,but not unexpectedly,a cat jumped into his lap. He'd been sitting on his desk the whole time,but wanted to be petted now,so he figured getting his owner's attention would get him what he needed.

His typing slowed,but did not stop as he used his left hand to pet the young male and the other hand to type. Normally, with both hand s and when he knows what he needs to say,he can type 93 words a minute. That's not all too fast,he wanted it to be more around 130,but that would take a lot of practice,some thing that he was doing ever so constantly. With just one hand,he could type 62 words a minute,but then again,that was only when he knew exactly what he was going to say. Other wise,he was at about 39 words a minute.

But now,he was just typing some more of his story,so it didn't really matter all too much.

As the cat purred more,he began to wonder what would he would do for the next chapter,since his 3rd one was done already.

The story was about a boy who'd been abandoned by his parents at a young age and takes a cave for shelter out in the woods. However,when he grows to the age of 15, the government wants to take him back to the city so that he can be a "productive part of society".

So far,it seemed okay. He liked the idea of it,but he didn't know whether or not his writing was good enough. He was better when it came to poetry. He was at the top of his classes back in college,and in highschool. But that was also when he got to spend all his time at his computer screen,like he is now.

The cat,being relaxed enough from being massaged, removed himself from his owner's lap and into its little bed near the wall. He usually entertained himself by watching the second-hand on the clock go by,it would help him to hear something and actually see it moving.

After a while,the room went back to being silent again,and the only things to be heard were the sounds of typing,light breathing,and the slow ticking of the clock.

That's exactly how most of their days went by,well,at least when he didn't have to go to work.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys! I know,this story seems kind of wierd,just something I had thought about it for a while and decided to write it. I had watched the Saw movies and decided to write a bit about it. So,this it the next chapter for this story,I'm thinking about starting a Resident Evil story or a Naruto story soon,I don't know which one I'm going to write,but I'll figure it out. So,you guys can take a look at this one,review if you'd like. I wanna see what people think about me going from romance and bedrooms to horror and gas chambers. See you guys later!**

**Finished being typed - 12/5/2014**

**Finished being edited - 12/18/2014**


	3. Chapter 3

"Whew! Today was a loooong ass day..."

The tired man sat down on his couch,or more or less slumped down on to it. It had been a long day at the police department,and it was only going to get worse. For the past 3 weeks, the phones had been off the hook with random prank calls, complaints, and lots of other stuff that Stark A. Coyote had to hear ringing in his ear all day.

He rubbed his ear thinking about the last lady he dealt with before he called it a day.

_"I'm sick and tired of this! My daughter can't go out with her stupid boyfriend to a stupid dance all becuase some stupid guy stole her stupid car! And now,she won't stop complaining to me about it! Do you know just how annoying that is?!"_

This woman, Loya Michel, had called a few days ago about her daughter's new Toyota had been stolen. When she called,they told her theyd try to find it. Howeve,they made little to almost no progress. It wasn't their fault either. They had no description of the car, no idea of what the guy was like or who he was and the woman refused to give them a description. After the first time of calling and not getting the results she wanted, she'd asked to speak with their manager. Well, Stark had about a million other thhings that were more important than the stolen car. So,he told them to always tell her that he wasn't in that day and that he'd get with her as soon as possible. Too bad that only worked for about 3 days before she rushed in tonight.

_"Ok boys, I'm going home for the day. Good work everyone." Stark was putting on his coat and getting his hat from the stand as hhe was finally off. It had been such a long day,and for once,he couldn't be happier to leave work. Too bad,fate had to come rushing through his door in a night robe and nothing else._

_He'd had just about reached in his pocket for a smoke when she rushed in, a bit wet from the rain,but that didn't wash the red from anger that was on her face._

_She just stood there looking at him. She looked like she was about to bust,with suc anger and furry that was built up in her eyes. The rest of her face was ok,but it was kind of tense. Her mouth still had a few smudges of messed up lipstick. Her eyelashes were falling apart, she never did like her real ones. Her hair was not only messy,but wet and had a little white stuff in there._

_All in all,she looked like a fucking wreck._

_Stark on the other hand stood as still as a statue. But slowly,he turrned to the last cadet that was in sight witha look for assistance. All the younf man did was walk off,and com back with a file that had her name on the front of it. He held his hand out to Stark with the folder in hand._

_Slowly, abd alost mechanically, he grabbed the folder from the cadet. As soon as it was out of his hand,the cadet abruptly walked off into the back to grab his coat and things and then left the building._

_This was going to be the suckiest night of his fucking life. the only one is the whole police station (security gaurd was out at lunch, and other crew memebers) and now he was caught in a lie. That same cadet was the same one that had just talked on the phone with her. And earlier that day,he'd told her that Stark wasn't in today. Now shee was here,saw that he most likely lied and now probably wouldn't leave until she got some answers._

_And to Stark's dismay,that was clearly within her rights._

_"Well?" She looked angrilly at him,waiting and expecting an answer. And damn right he was going to give her one._

_"What can I do for you?"_

That was the longest fucking night of his life. They spent hours talking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth and so on. He really wished there was some other way he could have done that,but the bitch wouldn't leave until he promised to show up to her house the next day.

"I hate my life."

A soft and low howl assured him Lynette thought so too.

Author's Note:

I realy like this story. But sadly enough,I don't have enough time to actually finish editing it. So,I'm posting it for now so that it can be out there. Stay chilly!


End file.
